


Peter Parker Imagines

by spectacularparker



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man - All Media Types, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Adult Peter Parker, Angst, Anxiety, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, First Kiss, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, Multi, Night Terrors, Other, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Peter Parker Whump, Precious Peter Parker, Protective Peter Parker, Reader-Insert, Whump
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-04
Updated: 2019-06-08
Packaged: 2020-04-07 12:15:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 2,844
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19084828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spectacularparker/pseuds/spectacularparker
Summary: A collection of blurbs between 200 and 1000 words that I originally posted on my tumblr.





	1. You’ll always be safe with me

Peter moved his fingers gently across your forehead. Steady hands in an unsteady moment of panic filling inside of him. He had never meant for you to get you like this. You weren’t supposed to get hurt. Of course, you would say it was a fluke, and you happened to be in the right place at the wrong time, and laugh it off. While it would run wild in Peter’s mind for the next three weeks.

He wanted you to stay safe, he needed you to stay safe.

“Pete,” you said, gently taking the washcloth out of his hands. You knew from the second his hand started to shake that he had let his mind take over with every worse scenario known to man. “Peter, look at me.”

Peter raised his head, tears forming in his eyes as he forced a smile on his face.

“What is going in that mind of yours?” You scooted closer to the edge of his bed, wrapping your arms around his waist until Peter was forced to stand between your legs.

“I should’ve been there, you shouldn’t have gotten hurt,” Peter spoke in hardly a whisper. “And I wasn’t there.”

“Peter,” you laced your fingers with his, squeezing them tightly until he looked at you again, “there was nothing that you could do ‘bout it, it was gonna happen.”

“I know, but—”

“No, buts,” you said as you laid down, pulling Peter on top of you, “accidents happen.”

His forehead rested against yours, as he unlaced his hand to push back some of your hair. “I just want you to know that you’ll always be safe with me.”

“I know,” you muttered, pressing your lips softly against his. And you felt Peter’s body relaxed as if the stress from the last hour was washed away as you leaned back, running your hands through his hair. “And you need to learn that accidents happen.”

Peter groaned, burying his head into your shoulder.


	2. “I’m glad it’s you....

You could count the amount of times that Peter actually slept at night. Most nights he would toss and turn, and other nights he would wait until you fell asleep before he would sneak out of your bed and go down the hall into the living room to work on making his suit better.

But tonight was different.

Peter’s arms were wrapped around your waist, his chest pressed against your back and his little snores (that you didn’t get to hear that often) filled your ears, allowing a small smile to fill your face as you tried to roll over to see Peter lying there. His hair a mess, mouth slightly opened, his nose twitching every once in a while, and his legs tangled with yours. Your fingers threading through his hair before you danced tenderly across his forehead in hopes that it would actually keep him asleep. 

And while lying there like that wasn’t the most comfortable position, you really wouldn’t change it for anything else in the world. There was something about being tangled up in Peter that made your heart and stomach feel a little bit better. That for the first time in weeks, he was actually sleeping, and not being forced to sleep from overworking himself.

Peter’s lips smacked together, and his eyes opened slowly, “Did I wake you?”

“No,” you said, shaking your head as you rolled over onto your stomach. “I’m just glad it was you I saw when I woke up this time.”

“Mhm,” Peter grumbled, his eyes closing again and his grip tightening around your waist.  

You laughed a little as you leaned over and pressed a light kiss to his check. “Sleep you, tired little boy.”


	3. You're cold...

You shivered against yourself as you wrapped your arms around your chest, trying your best to keep any body heat in from escaping. It was the middle of the night, Peter wasn’t home yet, and to say that you were worried didn’t even start to cover it. You knew how the nights went whenever his phone went off, and he went leaping out the window in his suit.

But as you laid there in bed, your mind started to wonder to every worst-case scenario that could have happened. Until you heard it…the front door opening and closing so quietly that if you had the television on in your room, you wouldn’t have known that it was Peter coming back.

“Hey,” you mumbled, pulling the sheets closer to your chin when he finally walked into the room.

“Mmm, hey,” Peter whispered as he started to climb out of his suit.

You noticed a new bruise starting to form underneath his right eye, and a cut above his eyebrow. The way his muscles rippled in his back when he pulled a shirt over his head, and how he winced slightly as he walked over towards the bed and climbed in. It wasn’t the worse that had happened, but it wasn’t the best either.

And before Peter could say anything, your foot met his shin and he jerked slightly from the too.

“You’re cold,” he said while he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you closer to him, “Come here.”

You buried your face into the crook of his neck as you let this warmth work its way from your feet up the rest of your body. And you relaxed against Peter’s chest, the tip of your fingers tracing the outline of his collarbone from underneath his shirt.

“Why didn’t you get more blanket?”

“You sweat too much at night,” you said, leaning back a little to get a better look at him. “For someone who’s a literal furnace.”

Peter chuckled, shaking his head, knowing dang well he wouldn’t win this argument at all.


	4. Just a little concept (1)

Okay, but you know what…Peter would know exactly when you were having a nightmare from when the two of you fell asleep on the couch while watching a movie. He would be able to tell from the way your body started to press into his side even more, and without thinking, you would manage to be between him the back of the couch. Your heartbeat would start pick up, and at first, it wouldn’t be much of anything at first. Just a couple of quick pulses followed by some normal, but then it would become so loud that it would wake Peter up. And he would try to fall back asleep, but would he jerk away at the slightest sound of your heartbeat beating much too fast for even him.

And even with his arm half asleep from how you pressed it between the cushions. Your eyebrows pushing together as your eyes moved rapidly underneath your eyelids at a pace that even Peter doesn’t think is normal. But he’s seen this before, he knows it happens from time to time when you let your mind run wild with the ideas of what he does for a living. Your breathing steady at times and then uneven at others, and he knows he shouldn’t be watching you. That he needs to wake you up.

Peter would eventually start to run the tips of his fingers over your forehead, pushing the hair that has fallen into your face. Wrapping his other arm around your waist to flip the both of you over to where you’re more on top of him, and he’s not falling off the couch now. Peter’s lips gently pressing on the spot between your temple and cheek…the soft spot that he always went for when you were nervous and needed reassurance that he would come back in one piece.

“Peter,” you gasp, leaning up as fast and as much as you could.

“Hey, Y/N,” he whispered, his lips brushing against your skin, “I’m right here.”

You turned in Peter’s arms, the television illuminating his face in all the right spots and you saw how tired he was. Your heartbeat was slowly starting to return when you realized that, in fact, Peter was here, and you were in his arms. The bruise from last night fading and the cut above his lip had started to heal, and you knew if you lifted up his shirt that there would still be the bruises and scars from the last couples of nights beginning to fade.

“Sorry, I didn’t think it would happen again, you know—it’s just last time you came home it wasn’t all that great.” You wiggled yourself back between the back of the couch and Peter, wrapping your arms around his waist and holding him tightly to you.

“I would be more concerned if it didn’t happen,” Peter said with a smile.

“Only cause then you wouldn’t have anything to blackmail.”

“Just a little true,” Peter laughed, pressing his lips against yours, “okay, maybe a lot true.”


	5. Concerts

Concerts were one of your favorite things to do. Seeing your favorite artist, dancing to the songs that you knew every single lyric too, and literally having the time of your life with your friends. Something you looked forward to every single time one of your favorite bands announced a tour.

_But this time was different._

Maybe it was cause there were more people attending a small band that no one really knew, and standing room and become nothing more than people pushing, shoving and yelling at the top of their lungs before it even got crowded. The way people were pushing past you, and shouldering you and muttering for you to move and get lost. Things you normally didn’t encounter.

_Maybe it was cause Peter was with you._

“It’s getting crowded in here,” Peter said, looking over his shoulder at you. “Here, hold my hand.”

You eyebrows knitted together as you looked at him and then to his hand and back to him.

“You know, that way we don’t get lost or anything.”  

“Right,” you swallowed the lump in your throat, lacing your fingers with Peter’s.

The lights lowered, and the band starts to play. Somewhere between singing at the top of your lungs, and squeezing Peter’s hand without realizing it. And you never really saw the quick glances or smiles that he threw your way. Until he leaned over during one of the breaks.

“It’s weird. I never thought I could feel like this,” Peter said in your ear, his eyes locked on your fingers laced with his.

“What are you saying, Parker?” You turned your head to look at him.

He shrugged his shoulder, ignoring the feelings that had been following him around since their fight with Thanos. “But you showed up. Now, it’s like I don’t wanna go on knowing I might lose the feeling.”

You smiled and pressed a kiss to Peter’s cheek. “Then don’t let go.”


	6. I Trust You....

“I trust you.”

The words were thick like molasses, leaving a slight bitter taste in your mouth as you wrapped your arms around Peter’s waist.

It wasn’t that you didn’t trust Peter, you did. You would close your eyes in a heartbeat and jump off the top of your house, and you knew that Peter would catch you without a second thought. That you could tell him everything that was going on in your mind, and he wouldn’t judge you or tell a single soul about what you said.  

_But this was different._

This was Peter in his Spider-Man suit begging you to let him swing you through New York City. You swallowed the lump in the back of your throat as you moved your arms up around his neck and squeezed him tightly. Your legs wrapped his waist, and you buried your face into the crook of his neck.

“I got you, don’t worry,” he whispered into your ear.

“Mhm.”

That’s all you could say as Peter leaped off the building. The two of you swinging through the night sky of New York City. Peter’s muscles were moving against your arm with every flick of his wrist, pulling you further and further away from his apartment. The wind was rushing past your ears, making your hair go wild in your face. Your nails were doing their best to dig into Peter’s suit and his laughter filling your ears.

_Of course, he would find this hilarious._

_Take the whole, “afraid of heights to a new level.”_

But finally the gush of air slowed down, and you felt Peter’s feet hit the pavement below as you lifted your head to see that he stood at the top of a building with the best view in the city.

He took his mask off, holding it on hand as he snaked his arms around your waist, and even though you could let go and stand on your own, Peter wasn’t having it.

“You’ll always be safe with me,” he muttered as his lips left a soft kiss against your temple.


	7. Sunrise

Peter was never one to wake you up in the middle of the night or early in the morning. Most times, he couldn’t even sleep himself and would end up working on random projects in the living room or listen to Jameson say something else about Spider-Man. Which only made Peter laugh so hard that he had to stop from crying or waking you up. 

But this morning was different as he was working on his something for Oscorp. Peter got distracted by the way the sunlight danced between the blinds and only when he opened it did he the New York City skyline painted in perfect shades of pinks and oranges against the brightest blue he had ever seen before.

Peter was careful as he tiptoed into your bedroom, and without a single word, scooped you up into his arms.

You lolled your head into his chest before looking up. “What’s going on? Is there a fire?”

“I know it’s early, but you have to see this sunrise,” Peter said, his lips brushing against your forehead.

“You’re carrying me out of bed for this?”

“Just—you gotta see it.”

You huffed, pressing your cheek back against Peter’s chest as he walked through the apartment. His footsteps were slowly putting you back to sleep when he raised his shoulder just enough to wake you back up.

“You gotta look,” he said, stepping sideways as he opened the blinds with you still in his arms.

Your eyes were wide as you saw what Peter had seen earlier. And it was indeed possibly one of the most beautiful sights of the skyline you had seen in a while.

“It’s beautiful,” you whispered.

“Just like you,” Peter laughed while pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

You leaned up, rolling your eyes to the left. “You owe me pancakes, Parker.”


	8. Bruised Kisses

Peter laid on the couch, curled up into somewhat of a ball. He’s knees close to his chest, a hand tucked underneath his head and another falling off the cough. Peter’s head rested against the pillow that always scratched his skin thanks to the fabric your mom had used to recover it. Soft snores escaping his slightly parted lips, and a cut above his eyebrow had started to scab over.

Any other time, you would have woke up him and told him to come to bed. You always helped him walk halfway to the bedroom before he would fall on top of the bed and pretend to be asleep before you left the room. At least then you could wrap him up in a blanket, and close the blinds and let him rest.

But you knew something was up the second Peter came in, and went to the couch and collapsed, finally letting sleep take him over. Then again, you had been counting the days Peter went without any, and he was currently sitting at 4 days.

You rested your back against the foot of the couch, working on a paper that had to be turned in before class tomorrow. But as you stretched your head to look at Peter, you saw his chest rising just enough for you to see the bruise forming from underneath his shirt, scattering across his up to his ribs.

You closed your laptop, pushed yourself up off the floor, and leaned over just a little. Your lips fluttered over Peter’s cheek as he moved his head slightly. Peter’s arm wrapped around your waist and he pulled you on top of him, elbow to the ribs.

“Oof-”

“Sorry,” he muttered, half asleep.

“Peter,” you said, trying to catch your breath.

“Mmm, I’m sorry,” he muttered as his lips tickled against your cheek, “I just sleep better with you beside me.”

You wiggled your way between him and the back of the couch. “At least let me get comfortable first,” you begged while you moved his arm out from around.

Peter’s eye were half-lidded, a lopsided smile on his face before his lips pressed against yours in a way that wasn’t hungry, but needy. Needy and comforting. Something Peter needed right now as you were wrapped up in his arms, and when you pulled away gently, Peter buried his head between the pillow and your shoulder.

“Love you.”


End file.
